Family reunion, in which he confuses you for your grandma.
“Hi. How’s it going, Laurie? Hi.” His voice follows a bang as he swings the door open unannounced He is a tall, maybe seven feet, leaning down to enter through the doorway, head brushing the ceiling upon entry by a wispy gray hair, spindly man. He is blind. His skin is white except for brown liver spots. A short but obese white dachshund with the same spotting scampers in behind him. It looks like a slab of skin has been placed over his eyes. Perhaps they never developed in the first place.
“Hi.” Is all you can manage. You freeze.
The dog is face level to you in the bathtub. It comes up to your face while wagging its tail. You can see that it’s also blind in the same way. It smells you and bobs its head as it bumps its wet nose along the outline of your arm.
It nudges your lips. You open your mouth, and it puts its snout inside. It darts its way in, shoving itself in, which gapes your mouth further. A small cry dies in your throat as you fear any little noise will set it off. Its tail wags harder, causing its body to sway as its wrinkly nose pokes the inside of your cheek. You freeze as the snout reaches the back of your throat, and its nose bumps your amygdala. Even while your mouth is unhinged, the base of its snout drags against your teeth, sprinkling microscopic hairs in your mouth that collect in pools of your saliva. You can hear low grumbles from its stomach as it wheezes in pleasure. Hn-hn-hn. You know that over that, It can hear you breathing. You wonder what will happen now? Will it keep digging down your throat until it’s satisfied?
It relinquishes its snout from your mouth but continues smelling you, bumping its saliva slicken snout along the side of your face. Common sense tells you that you should open your eyes and analyze the scene. You refuse. It bumps the wrinkles of your tightly closed eyes and pauses. Its body stops swaying because you can no longer hear the rhythmic scratching of its elongated nails on the floor. It licks your eyelid. It wants to open it. The man bellows. “Stop it, Hungry.”
——
A/N: Hey, I had a horrific nightmare and sleep paralysis experience where I woke up at 1am and stayed in bed for 30 minutes too scared to move until I wrote this down. And I was told not to edit so as to not take away from the original, so I’ll give some context now. This nightmare takes place at a family reunion in which I meet distant and fictional family members. “Laurie” is my grandma, and everyone there is supernaturally old and mistakes me for her. I’m taking a shower but sitting in the bathtub when this man walks in.
As for why I wrote this at all, I am a college student majoring in English, who was terrified and wanted to capture the raw emotion through the small details that made the overall scene unnerving. Also, I never remember my dreams, but this one was super vivid! I could (figuratively) feel my jaw lock up and hear the nails rhythmically scratching on the tiled floor.
Well, I hope you find this just as disturbing as I did. I desperately want to post this to the dream interpretation subreddit, but I also don’t want to know what this says about me, haha. Cheers.